This past week Sean and I attended the first part of the Sundance New Voices Lab in Solvang, California. Firstly, Solvang is a remarkable little Dutch town nestled in the Santa Ynez Valley. Secondly, the Sundance Institute is a pretty rad nonprofit (founded by Robert Redford) that strives to put a spotlight on independent film and television creators. 10 projects were selected for the New Voices Lab and Sean and I were so honored and thrilled that ours made the cut. While on the lovely Alisal Ranch, we Shipwrecked sibs worked on our new pilot “The Local Haunt.” This new show is very near and dear to our hearts as it follows a ragtag group of misfits working at a tacky tourist trap museum in Massachusetts, and hey…we know a little about that.
The lab was an INTENSE and informative experience. Things got deep very quickly on the first day and only continued on from there. Secrets were revealed, 10 cups of coffee were inhaled every morning, and new creative possibilities were born! It sounds cheesy but, dude, I had like SIX or SEVEN creative revelations during this lab.
It was truly a beautiful experience. Sean and I bonded with our fellow…fellows and were quick to take to the internet to check out their other work. It was inspiring to spend a week with a diverse group of people who are SO talented and who are telling incredibly personal stories. We can’t wait to see our new friends again when the lab resumes in June. Until then, we will be working diligently on our fledgling script, trying to make these new characters (whom we are VERY excited about) come to life!
Some of these outfits are the raddest things I’ve ever seen.
Can we talk about the tights.
The existence of photos like these (and similar photos from the 70s and 80s and so on) makes me wonder yet again why current-day movies set in this time never seem to be able to get the hair and clothing right.
How did you know when you were in love with your husband? I remember calling my sisters and telling them about Paul and I couldn’t – I remember feeling like,
“I can’t stop talking about him,” like I was talking about him all the time. But I wasn’t aware,
really,
of how I was feeling yet. I just knew I was like,
compulsively talking about this guy. One of my sisters was like, “Who is this person?” But yeah. I don’t know if it was a definitive moment. It was just so easy. There was nothing hard about it.
That’s the thing about falling in love,
too. Sometimes one person falls really hard,
like I felt like [Paul] fell really hard earlier. You fell really hard and I was like, “Whoa. He’s really going there.” And I felt it too,
but I wasn’t quite ready to vocalize it. And then like 6 months later,
I was PANICKED in love. Like,
panicked and fraught with “I can’t even deal with these feelings.” But he had already been like “We’re together and that’s great! There are no problems here.” That’s our love story.
“What the fuck is going on? Donald Trump! Donald fucking Trump! He’s a jackass reality TV star. He’s goddamn clueless. For fuck’s sake, this can’t be happening. Can it? Fucking fuck. Why isn’t anyone calling it out? It’s like Alice in fucking Wonderland. How can we be doing this? Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”
At the moment I’m sitting in front of an ExxonMobil station in Burlington Vermont waiting to be arrested and feeling, frankly, a little silly.
But I’m doing it because I want people to read and share two news stories, and I figure this small gesture might be enough to move a few people to do so. The stories come from teams of reporters at the Los Angeles Times, the Columbia Journalism School, and the Pulitzer-Prize winning Inside Climate News, and they demonstrate—exhaustively, undeniably, and appallingly—that ExxonMobil, the biggest and most powerful company on earth, knew all about climate change in the 1970s, 1980s, and 1990s. The company had sophisticated computer models demonstrating exactly how fast the globe would warm, and its highest levels of management were clearly aware that this would be a severe problem for the planet. They even used this knowledge to bid on oil leases in the rapidly melting Arctic.
But they didn’t tell anyone. Instead, they lied—they helped fund institutes devoted to climate denial, and bankrolled politicians who fought against climate action. Their CEO—who had overseen much of the research—told Chinese leaders in 1997 that the globe was cooling and that they should go full-steam ahead with fossil fuel.
This is not just one more set of sad stories about our climate. In the 28 years I’ve been following the story of global warming, this is the single most outrageous set of new revelations that journalists have uncovered. Given its unique credibility—again, it was the biggest corporation on earth—ExxonMobil could have changed history for the better. Had it sounded the alarm—had it merely said ‘our internal research shows the world’s scientists are right’—it would have saved a quarter century of wheel-spinning. We might actually have done something as a world before the Arctic melted, before the coral reefs were bleached, before the cycles of drought and flood set fully in.
Instead, their silence and their lies—driven by nothing more than the desire to keep making money—helped disrupt the earth’s most critical systems. When people ask, how could our species have wrecked our planet, the memos and internal documents uncovered by these reporters offer a huge part of the answer. We wrecked the planet, in no small part, because we were lied to by the most powerful institutions on that planet.
And so here I sit. I don’t have any great hope this action of mine will change anything practical. I fear that no one is likely to prosecute Exxon—they’re too big and too powerful. And for that matter it wouldn’t undo the damage. I know that we can’t rally enough Americans to boycott Exxon to make more than a token dent in their endless profits, and that even if we did those profits would flow to some other oil giant whose deeds are yet to be uncovered. Indeed, I know that most of the gas stations that say Exxon or Mobil on the sign aren’t even owned by the company. I know that none of this is the fault of the local franchisees—I gave the folks who run this station a hundred bucks before I sat down in hopes that my small protest won’t cost them too much in income.
I also know that there are clever and cynical people who will wave off these stories by saying, ‘of course, we knew that all along. That’s just how the world works.’ Or they will say, ‘it’s not Exxon’s fault; we all use fossil fuels.’ These clever people are the cousins of the cynics who worked at ExxonMobil; their knowingness is a cover for inaction. Exxon didn’t act when its actions could have changed the course of history; that’s not true of the rest of us.
My only real hope is that this gesture of mine will lead a few more people to read these pieces of reporting before they disappear into what my wife correctly and despairingly called the overwhelming clutter of our digital culture. I don’t want you to sign a petition, add your name to a mailing list, send money to a kickstarter. Just to read. I guess I figure that some people will say: if it’s important enough to someone to get arrested, I can spare ten minutes to read the story.
Perhaps this understanding will lead more people to join in the movement for fossil fuel divestment, or to oppose giant new oil projects, or to take away government subsidies from dirty energy. That would be good—I’ve spent much of my life on those battles, and will keep at them with my colleagues at 350.org and throughout the climate justice movement. It would help in every battle that matters if the Exxons of the world had less credibility and less power.
But even if these stories simply lead to more understanding without any practical consequence, that seems worthwhile. People are dying already around the world from the effects of climate change, people who never burned a gallon of oil in their lives. Everyone who comes after us will inhabit a planet much less vibrant than the one we were born into. My daughter graduates from college this spring, and she inherits this world that Exxon did so much to break. They—and all of us–deserve at least to know the truth.
Okay, so I was watching Mad Max…. and during this scene I noticed something…
Let’s take a closer look…
Now, pardon my bad gif making skills but…
IS THAT FURIOSA RESTING ON MAX’S SHOULDER!?
you’re right, that’s her
So not only are they sitting on the roof & holding hands while the car drives onto the lift, they’ve been resting against each other the entire way there!?
I didn’t know they were holding hands on the roof! I wonder if the car ride is missed out in the same way that Max killing the Bullet Farmer is missed out. Like Furiosa is out for the count pretty much so would it be too focused on Max? In the same way the other scene in other action films would have been included?
There would have been so much bonding through unspoken words and eye contact and touching tho omg I want to know what happened during this drive!!
Oh yeah they were. It’s like 95% to provide physical support for her but…that other 5%…
(And I kind of feel like after the moment of intimacy and vulnerability “My name is Max” ends on, both of them need and deserve a long drive with her napping on his shoulder. The more I think about it the more it feels right.)
I just want high-res screencaps of every millisecond of this last scene.
I’m still not over this. THEY’RE SO CUDDLY AT THE END
Furiosa is completely exhausted and all of Max’s barriers are down after the blood-giving scene. Like 95% it’s about literal physical support, but 5% is “oh god after everything we went through I’m so glad you’re alive let’s touch”
That awkward moment when “fang it” is mainstream Australian slang, not something George Miller made up.
LOL someone didn’t do their research
and yes I do know that continually adding text to a post mocking the original poster is rude but this person had enough time to make a series of Gifs for a movie that isn’t even available for home viewing yet but they didn’t have time to type fang it into urban dictionary? I’m sorry but no not cool!
I’m curious why you assume inclusion in the gifset means the OP didn’t know “fang it” was existing Aussie slang.
Isn’t language evolution almost always based on adapting previously used elements? Neither Aqua-Cola nor “traitor” as a verb are things made up out of thin air by George Miller; each reflects language currently in use.
World-building doesn’t mean things have to be invented from scratch. It just means a richly imagined, internally consistent world presented in an evocative way.
She never looks up when she’s thinking. When she’s telling Max about her past, she’s looking straight ahead, or to the side. When she’s telling Max about the salt she’s looking at the salt. When Max is telling her to go back to the Citadel she’s looking past him, and when she decides she looks up at him and clasps his hand.
